


Pride's Shadow

by mjeann



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Elvhen Glory, Elvhen Lore, F/M, Lots of head cannons here folks so strap in, This will be long, Uthenera, a good mix of roguery and magic, and by ethical growth I mean Lavellan starts out as a massive asshole... then gets better, but not really because Attachments are Formed, ethical growth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24528715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjeann/pseuds/mjeann
Summary: Fen'Harel may have been the charismatic leader of the rebellion against the rule of the Enuvaris, forever vilified in campfire tales, but few know that he did not work alone. At his side all the way was a woman, know to the public as Hale'Atesumis: the Fox of the Shadows. To her inner circle, she is Ithelana, the spymaster of the rebellion. Able to twist shadow itself and disappear before one's eyes is a powerful tool to keep hidden in the depths of history and time. Long ago, the two powers, the Fox and the Wolf, descended into Uthenera under protection of the monks of Mythal's temples. Now, in times of chaos, they have awakened to use their chance to replace what once was: Arlathan. The Dread Wolf keeps true to their goal, but the Fox of the Shadows' path is less clear. In the playing of her part in this brand new world, she comes to see that to sacrifice the people she has protected and come to call friends is too high a price for bringing back her beloved nation.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone! I have been working on this piece for a while so I could build up a good deal of content from the get-go and release it all at once. After that, I may not be as consistent in posting, but for the time being I hope to release a chapter every couple weeks. Full disclosure, I realize that there may be some factual inaccuracies from Dragon Age cannon, but my goal was not accuracy, but to create a new twist, hence the "AU". Enjoy, and please leave a comment!

Same shit, different day. Even across a millennia, I’m picking up his messes. I was the one who woke him up from uthenera, helped him find the foci, and now he was too busy closing up a few rifts while I was chasing his foci across this whole damned temple. So how did we get here? 

Uthenera is like nothing you can imagine. You aren’t unconscious, for one. Sure, your body is suspended in time, but your mind and your aura are awake. Languishing, but awake. In uthenera, you come to know the fade very well. Awake, you wander, but here you just know. You are. You don’t spend any mana during the sleep, but you are weakened. As though you hadn’t used a muscle in a while and it had atrophied. That was what my magi felt like in that moment, anyway. Weakened. 

I was in an old hidden temple somewhere deep in the Arbor Wilds. The room swam before me and I laid there for quite a while before I saw a figure swimming before me. 

“Rest, lethallin. You have been asleep for hundreds of years. You have been weakened.” His voice sounded a thousand miles away. 

I’m awake again, then. 

“Ir abelas, I need a moment,” I still hadn’t sat up. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure that there was some one standing above me. Everything was fuzzy around the edges as though it would dissolve at any moment. A side effect of the Fade, most likely. I closed my eyes and tried to focus my energy on this moment. I felt first the stone beneath my hands. Then, the simple cloth covering my body. Then the crisp forest air washing over me. The sun permeated the roof and painted red splotches across my eyelids. I slowly opened my eyes and it all rushed back. 

“Take as long as you need, my friend.” The figure was solid, now. He was hooded and his face was branded with the branches of Mythal. 

“Abelas,” I said with relief. He had been there when I went to sleep as well. He vowed to guard me and the others by keeping this place hidden from the shem. 

“Yes. It has been some time,” he helped me to my feet, “How do you feel?” 

“I’m still—” I was suddenly hit with a headrush and my knees buckled under me, “acclimating.” I stood once more and shook my head, “I’m fine.” 

He chuckled, “I am sure you are, Ithelana. Are you hungry?” 

“Now that you mention it, yes,” I haven’t eaten in hundreds of years after all. In the great hall, other servants of the temple laid out a feast in the true fashion of Arlathan. There were fruits and breads abound, with roots and vegetables gathered from the surrounding forest. In the center was a large roasted boar. My mouth was watering already. 

I sat at a long table across from Abeles and ate generously. 

“Abelas, why did you wake me?” it was an obvious question to ask. He and about five others had the honors of holding this temple and those who slept within and vowed to wake them only if it was truly necessary or if they deemed the world ready for our return. 

He gingerly set his spoon down before him and folded his hands across his face, “Thedas is unstable. It may be the right time to intervene, lethallin.” 

“Unstable how, exactly?” I asked, “A great deal of time has passed, after all.”

“When the humans came, they established a Circle of Magi where mages were prisoners in all but name to the Templars. They drank lyrium to control the mages’ magic. Now the mages have rebelled. The two great nations, Ferelden and Orlais, are at war. And while the last blight ended not long ago, there are murmurs of another crisis soon to come. The world is at war. Now is the perfect time,” dropped his hands, “Or at least that is the abridged version.” 

“Am I the first awake?” I asked, “Of us?” Us. There were two sects of Arlathan, really. There were the Enuvaris, the elite mages who became as gods in the eyes of the people. They were slave owners, symbols of hatred and cruelty. And there was us. The Harellan. The dreaded ones. There were two figure heads, myself, Hale’Atisumis, and Fen’Harel , though Fen’Harel was far more well known.

“No, though Solas has not been openly active yet. He is weak still from his injuries before he went down and from uthenera,” he said quietly, “You are in a better place to be active and set off.” 

“How much earlier was he woken?” I said. Why wake me up later? 

“Several years,” he said, “The other temple deemed it necessary, we disagreed. Besides, if both of you were awakened at the same time, there may be too much attraction to the others.” 

“Of course,” they placed us apart from each other, in the two temples to Mythal, so that if one were to fall, the other would still stand and complete the task ahead. Before we went under, the other temple in the North fell under attack and Solas sustained injuries that greatly weakened him. The caretakers put him in uthenera before me and they told me that because he was injured when he went down, he would be weak for some time before he was at full strength again. 

We finished our meal in silence, and Abelas was content to do so. He was a close friend to the both of us, a trusted confidant. He was a servant of Mythal, her spymaster, and an ambassador to our cause. There was a time when we travelled together, from fortress to fortress. 

“We’ve kept your armor, lethallin, if you wish to use it,” he said. 

“If you show me where it is, I just would like to polish it. If I am to go in the field I think it best that I have no threads leading back to me. The armor may be a bit conspicuous, don’t you think?” 

He laughed at that, “Perhaps a bit, yes. The pieces are in your council room. You will know where.”

“Thank you, lethallin. I will contact you if i need anything further.” I stood slowly and bowed my head to him. Another servant in the temple came and cleared my dinner ware and I padded out of the hall. I looked down at my dress and remembered that the Sentries chose to dress Solas and I in simple clothing to hide our status from invaders. I had a cloth tunic and leggings, no breast band. It was not what I was used to. This was the clothing of a slave.   
I never tried to dress extravagantly, that was far too much like the people we were fighting, but we both knew the value of posturing and looking the part. 

The door to our council room was in a removed spot, so that you would really have to look closely to find it. When you entered the room, it was a simple prayer chapel. A shrine to the All-Mother stood at the front on a platform. A few offerings were littered on the floor about the room. Inlaid about the base of the platform was an intricate mural. 

I knelt as if to pray, “You were the best of them, old friend.” I ran my fingers along the mural and found the loose tile depicting a fox and wolf frolicking in a wood. I pressed it. The platform pulled away and a narrow stair case revealed itself. I descended the case and pressed the lever that closed the case. 

I forgot how dark it was down here. I focused energy in my hand and brought veil fire to my fingertips. Even that simple act left me unusually drained. The eerie green light illuminated the tunnel before me. The walls were limestone, and shockingly well preserved. I remember Solas painting the murals on the walls in his boredom. One side of the tunnel was his story, the other mine. I smiled at the memory. All along the tunnel, from our birth, to our dawn of power, our education, our turning points, until the end of the path, where our images face each other. Then the tunnel opens to the war room. It was a large circular chamber, about 12 feet in height with a domed roof, where Solas had painted a fresco of the heavens. Around the edges was the depiction of our battle, and the point opposite the tunnel’s large sylvan wood doors depicted Solas and I among our people, free of the vallaslin. 

It was a beautiful room, it always was. I lifted my hand and the chandelier above me flared to life. The table was just as I remembered. It was built from the great stump of a sylvan tree. The top was inlaid with the map of Thedas and the markers were in the same locations they once had been. There were letters in a pile in the corner and I picked one up to read. It was the last correspondence between Solas and I before he was attacked. I did not need to read it, really, it was well in my memory. 

I turned then to the room to the side. It was a lavish bedchamber. The bed was oak, plated with gold, and the spread was fine green silk. I lit the braziers and the rest was illuminated. Solas hadn’t touched these walls with his brushes, yet. At the foot of the bed there was a large chest, inlaid with silver and onyx. I placed my had on the lid and whispered a few words as I outlined the rune. The latch opened after the rune came to life quite vividly. 

The lid was as weighty as I remembered. Inside was my beautiful armor. Did it still fit? I wondered. Uthenera left me more trim and lean than I had been. Piece by piece, I fitted myself with the beautiful, powerful, yet light armor. The chest piece, greaves, and gauntlets were dragon bone, polished to a sheen. The graceful curves accentuated my own body shape, something Solas seemed to be quite fond of, though he was far too restrained to say so. I fastened the pelt about my shoulders. It was fox, to match my namesake. Hale’Atisumis. The fox in the Shadows. 

Finally, I lowered the helm onto my head. Carved dragon bone, made to be in the image of a fox. I felt fierce. I could take on the world. But I could not use this. I could not draw attention to myself. And so, I placed the beautifully crafted armor in the chest once more. I thought of how Solas likely did the same. We were always so vain. 

I traded the simple threads for a mail undershirt, a green tunic, belted at the waist with a wide bear skin strap, and leather leg wraps. About my shoulders I fastened a deep green hooded cloak with the silver fox brooch from Solas. We agreed that we would use these amulets as identification to each other. His was a wolf jaw fragment. 

We also agreed to change our appearance to hide in plain sight. I looked in the mirror. The first to go would have to be my hair. There was old magic that could alter how you appeared to others, and it involved an eluvian. I looked in the one before me and placed my hand on the glass. I envisioned a long thicket of red curls, in place of my usual short sheet. I also imagined dark green vallaslin, Mythal’s branches, curling over my cheeks. And that was all I chose to change. I would be a servant of Mythal. A Dalish. I painted a thick black line around my eyes. Khol. A mark of distant nobility, but useful nonetheless.

I then picked up my staff and bow. These too, would be too eye catching. Also crafted from Ironbark heartwood inlaid with dragon bone. They would require a very complex explanation. So with a pang of regret, I leaned them against the chest. I would retrieve them later. 

I decided that it would be best to seek Solas in the fade first, and perhaps train my mana pool to return to ints former strength. The hearth in the bedchamber came to life with veil fire and I traced the circular rune on the floor before it. It flared to life in an eerie green, and I sat in the middle of it. Wrapping the fine, runed chain about my hands, I began to chant quietly. The chain began to pulse with energy and spirits began to chant with me. I let them do that part of the job. I just focused on my breathing, letting rise and fall of my chest begin to control the rise and fall of the flame in the hearth. 

With a cleared mind and focused energy and breathing, I closed my eyes and opened them, but I didn’t see the hearth. I saw the fade. I’m sure my eyes would appear the same odd green as the veil fire before my body. 

I imagined where Solas would be, I knew he would come at a tug to his consciousness. 

‘Solas,’ I whispered. I let my aura wander in search of its partner and I found something like it. The scene changed and we were standing in a very familiar space: the headquarters of our resistance, the war room. I stood before the windows, looking over the fjord. 

“Ithelana,” I heard the the relaxed drawl behind me and turned. Solas. Just as I remembered him. His fade projection must have remained the same. He was bedecked in his armor and his dreads were fastened at the back of his head. I myself had chosen a form he would remember.

“Solas,” I smiled, “It is good to see you, lethallin.” My dearest friend. My closest confidant. The only person I could trust to watch my back in a fight. The only one I trusted with the secret sides of myself. I tried to keep my sentiment controlled. 

“You are awake then,” he said with surprising warmth, “I have been waiting for you, though I am afraid my injuries have hindered my recovery. It may be a few months before my power is completely returned. How are you feeling? You certainly seem… strong.” I smiled softly as his eyes trailed over the armor. 

I met his eyes and he returned the mischievous smile. The one that brought a pleasant heat to my chest. “Yes, I am feeling well. It will be a few days before I am ready for combative magic, but I think my recovery will be swift.” I was pleased to see him alive, “Abelas has told me of the complicated politics above, but what is your assessment. Are they ready?” 

He shook his head and padded over to my side. We looked out over the water, “Nearly, but there is a good deal to fix before we are ready to remove the veil. It is weak, lethallin. It is time. But we are not in a situation where we can do so. Our holds are lost and in disrepair. There is much to do. I was too weak to bring change before you.. I-.”

“What did you do?” He was stammering. He never stammered. 

“I lost my foci. It is in the hands of one of the magisters. Corypheus,” he said. 

I bit my cheek to keep from sighing, “Couldn’t wait for me, could you?” I laughed, he was the master mind, but I was the executor. 

“I thought I could handle it.”

“You always do,” I said somewhat to myself, “Where are you now?” 

“There is a conclave in the works between the Chantry leadership and the mage rebellion. I am simply here trying not to draw attention to myself, but I fear Corypheus will act soon, my friend. You must come.” 

“I will come, but I will not try and find you. I am in disguise. I will locate your foci, but I cannot retrieve it for you. You know the repercussions of using another’s foci as well as I.” Each foci was connected to a specific aura. Mine was in the room where I sat, in another secret hidey-hole known only to myself. If another captured such an object, they would have supplemented their magic with yours. The results of this, if not a very slow death, were physical corruption. But in rare cases, it did little beyond cause temporary pain. Because Solas and I had similar auras, it could work well, but I did not want to risk it. 

“Yes, I know,” he said, “Thank you.” 

“Of course. This conclave, where is it?” I asked, ready to depart at any moment. 

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes. In Haven,” he said. He stepped toward me and placed his hands on either of my shoulders. He let them travel up to either side of my face and stared.

“Solas?” I asked curiously. 

He quirked the corner of his mouth, “I just want to commit you to memory.” His voice had a soft edge I wasn’t used to. But I responded. I placed my hands on either side of his head and drew his forehead to mine. I took a deep breath and changed my appearance to what I had made it. I stepped back and his expression melted into something like sadness. Solas’s thumb traced the branches on my cheeks and frowned. 

“I hate to see these brands on you,” he whispered. 

“It makes it believable,” I said with a coy edge, “You forget who the master spy is.”

He chuckled and stepped back, his appearance melting into something entirely different. His skin was light and spotted with freckles and his head bare. He had kept the stormy blue in his eyes and I found myself tracing the patterns and whorls I knew were there. 

He smiled devilishly, “Bring a cloak, lethallin. I won’t be able to keep you warm in Haven.”

With a smile, he vanished, and I snapped to consciousness. The fire was still in line with my breaths, but I released it from its duty and the hearth became dark once more. I stood and strode out of the hidden rooms to the main foyer. 

“Abelas,” I called across the room. He turned to listen, “I need arms.” 

He nodded and led me to another area of the temple. Inside the massive doors were hundreds of bows and staves, swords and axes, and all assortments of weapons. I searched for something that resembled a Dalish weapon and happened upon a sylvan wood set. A perfect coming-of-age gift to a hunter. I took the bow and quiver of arrows, two daggers, and a staff with which I could walk. I kept it on my back along side the bow and quiver. 

“Perfect, no?” I said, “I make a damn good shem.” 

Abelas laughed, “I would say so, yes. From which clan do you hail, da’len?” He said the last word jokingly. 

“I suppose I will have to fabricate one,” I smiled, “Ithelana Halea Lavellan. My clan was from the Free Marches, and we wandered a great deal. We dealt more closely with humans than most, and I was something of a master huntress.” In Uthenera, I was able to pick up on some general themes of the last few centuries. Enough to not seem the idiot. 

“And if they attempt to send a letter?” he asked. 

“They shouldn’t need to,” I said, “I will say that the clan was massacred by a group of shemlen nobles that were on a rabbit hunt.”

We did this whenever I went undercover. We would talk through my backstory and find any flaws. Just like old times. 

“It is certainly plausible,” he said in approval, “Will you need anything else?” 

I thought of all I needed, “No, Ithelana Halea Lavellan likes to travel light.” 

“Very well, I will show you out,” and he turned his back to me. I followed the flowing train of his cloak out of the temple, with each step becoming less and less elvhen. I tried to shed that exterior to the best of my abilities, but it was more difficult than I thought it would be. In my previous roles, I was still elvhen, but now I was a different people entirely. Although, that would only be known to me. Any other shemlen would see me and assume I was who I said I was. In my thoughts, I became lost, and I nearly ran into Abelas, who had stopped to say something to me. 

“Lethallin, please take care,” he warned, “There is no one you can trust outside of these walls with the secrets of the People. Those with painted faces will brand you as a heretic, and the plain of face have forgotten the lore all together. Unless approached, reveal nothing.”

I nodded, partially in exasperation, “This isn’t my first time, Uthenera doesn’t dull the memory as much as you think, my friend. You forget my position and experience.” 

He shook his head, “You’re right. I am so used to training new agents that I slipped into a different role, my apologies. Dareth’shiral.” 

“Dareth’shiral,” I lifted my hood and stepped outside of the doors. When they slammed behind me, I did not even flinch, I was too distracted by the feel of true grass underfoot and the sound of rushing water. I so wished that I could call my steed from the rebellion, a wild hart the size of a mountain, or at least a large boulder. But that time was past, a new age had arrived, and I was thrust into the midst of it.


	2. Among the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ithelana makes "friends" with a Dalish clan. As I said in the tags, she's kinda a dick at the beginning.

I had been traveling for about a week toward Haven, taking my time, making a few connections here and there with townsfolk. I took the winding path of course. I worked my way up through the Emerald Graves, paying my respects to the fallen of our cause and cursing the graves of the Others. Then I worked up to Val Royeaux and familiarized myself with the lands in the area, as I was sure that I would be making many trips here in the future. Finally, I wandered east through the Exalted Plains, and its heaps of war and desolation. I tried to avoid much conflict with the local forces, but ended up in the middle of a few frays. 

The sun set low over the horizon when I decided it was best that I set camp. I looked to trees. There were many places where trees secluded entrances to stone-encompassed clearings. I found one that seem rather abandoned and picked my way carefully through the under brush, daggers drawn. The clearing itself was small, but well-enough midden in the maze of rock formations that any smoke would be hard-found by scavengers. I set wards on the ground before disembarking to hunt for my dinner. 

The trees burst with game. I bagged a rabbit and a quail using my bow and decided this was sufficient for the evening. I gleaned a few leaves of elf root and embrium for seasoning before venturing back. Light still spilled lazily through the tress, enough by which my eyes could guide me. I crossed the ward line and gathered stray brush for a fire, bringing it to life with a flick of my wrist. I decided from now on, I should try and remember to use magic as little as possible, to prevent tracking. With that in mind, I brushed away the careful runing encircling my camp like a moat. I felt a weak twinge of lost mana and resolved to meditate again after my meal. The fire was made, and the meat was on the spit by the time that the light faded away. 

I waited and watched the flame while my dinner cooked. I watched the dancing of the fire over the logs. A devouring force that was so dangerously beautiful. I badly wished to reach out to it, but I did not. I wasn’t strong enough for that yet. With more power, I would be able to survive and inferno.

And then I heard a rustling. My ears pricked toward the sound. More rustling, a snapping twig. There was a person working their way toward my position. No. More than one. I quashed the flames, letting the moonlight guide my eyes. I drew the simple daggers from my belt and backed against the stone wall face. This was a less than ideal situation, and if I were in fighting shape, I could shape shift to a lesser form, a fox most likely, but as it stood, my skills were stripped to utilitarian uses. So I gripped my daggers tightly and prayed it was enough. 

I saw the bushes become pregnant with the forms of three scrawny men. They thought they had the jump on me. Perhaps I should let them think so. I waited as they did and after seeing them remain still for some time, and then I shrugged and resumed my position the ground. They were elves, their auras told me that much. Far too natural and unkempt for humans or elvhen, but not strong or fluid enough for a mage. I picked up the flint at my belt and a stone and struck the two together to produce sparks. After a few attempts, flame sputtered out of the embers of my fire. Like a fool, I put my back to the hunters and continued to cook my meal, praying they were at least intrigued enough by my vallaslin to ask where I was from. 

Sure enough, as I finished the quail, I felt a knife edge on my throat. 

“Easy there, da’len,” I quelled my irritation at the condescending and utterly incorrect title, “Come with us nice and quiet, and we will give you a better place to sleep for the night.” 

I held my hands up, trembling in false fear, “I won’t make any trouble for you.” I stood at their direction and turned. They studied my face closely and, seeing I was one of them, relaxed themselves slightly. 

“What brings you to these parts, sister? This is an unusual place for a Dalish to be wandering, especially since ours is the only clan in the area. From where do you hail?”

This was showtime, “I’ve been wandering for sometime. I’m a huntress from a Marcher clan. Lavellan. We were massacred by some shemlen and I was the only one to make it out.” 

They regained some of their former caution, “Are you a mage? An uneasy energy floats about you, sister.” 

I shrugged, “I know to meditate. To control my aura and keep it in line, but I don’t know any spells. That’s as much as my Keeper had time to tell me before…” 

They nodded, “Come with us, then. And give us your weapons.” Reluctantly, I surrendered my bow and staff, but convinced them that I would be more of a burden if I was completely unarmed. They let me keep my daggers. Fools.

It was a short trek back to their camp. It was beside a river, and the elves were gathered around a blazing fire, sharing game and stories. 

A few sentinels sat downstream and let us through once they recognized the hunter, even though they eyed me warily. 

“Wait here, lethallin,” one of them said to the others. He departed to catch someones attention and I couldn’t help but inwardly cringing at the people before me. They wore the marks of slaves, but knew them only for worshipful honorifics. They lived as fugitives or refugees, and the words of the Elvhen had become butchered on their tongues. I stood stoically as ever. 

Finally, he returned with another man in long green robes, presumably a Keeper. 

“Andaran’atishan, da’len,” I paused for a moment before realizing that he meant the greeting phrase Andarian’atien. I bowed my head and greeted him in return, “Andaran’atishan, hahren.”

“So you’re a mage?” he began immediately. He seemed oddly excited at the prospect, as though he were seeing a valuable commodity. 

“Yes, though I know no skills,” I replied quietly. 

“We’ve been looking for a First, you know. Or at least an interim, mine has lost his way in these parts. From what clan do you hail?” He had June’s switches on his face. 

“I came from the marches, but I no longer have a clan of my own,” I responded cooly. 

“Ah, tricky business, that. Haven’t had another mage since the birth of the First 20 years ago, and now other clans have more than they care to take the trouble for. Been looking to trade up here and there,” he eyed me curiously at this point to see how I would respond. I pursed my lips at the idea; I was not breeding stock. 

“Alas, I carry the burden of infertility, hahren. Besides, I mean to make for Haven and find work. I would, however, welcome a bed for the evening,” I smiled sweetly, the bitter bile of the honeyed lie burned at my throat, “Even if it were just by the fire.” I knew how they slept here, tucked into their aravels like animals in a den. 

“A pity, truly,” the bastard sighed. I was more than my womb, “Ir abelas, da’len. You have my condolences,” how easily they accepted my lie, “You of course are welcome here for the evening, but I unfortunately can spare not more than a bed. The fact of the matter is that I do not trust you enough to spare anything else on you.” 

“I understand, thank you,” I smiled, “Could I be restored my weapons?” How differently would it have been if I had offered my honor to him?

With a nod, the hunters put the staff and bow back into my hands.

“You may sleep about the fire, or in the aravel with us, you are welcome at either,” he lied. With that he turned back to his tent. I knew the choice between the two would decide how the others viewed me. If I slept about the fire, I would be an outsider forever. If I slept in the aravel, however, I would be more trustworthy. 

I opted for the aravel. As the others laughed and feasted, I set my weapons in a cargo sling off the side and climbed under the tightly drawn covering. I was the first in. I curled comfortably into the furs on the floor toward the bow and waited for the sound to fade away. I focused on my breathing and managed to descend into a state of meditation. I imagined the cloud of my aura drawn closely to my skin and focused my mana to make this so. The less of a shadow I left, the less suspicious I would be. 

Slowly, the aravel began to fill. It was the unlucky few that came later that were stuck curling around me. I had difficulty sleeping this way, honestly. There was snoring and inhumane amounts of sweat and heat. I was sick in minutes.

I did not enter into the Fade that night. 

In the morning, I awoke far before the others in camp. I carefully extracted myself from the heap of bodies and redid the straps on my leg wraps. I leapt down from the aravel and stole a glance at my bedmate. They were but shadows, with the burning, cruel torches of Sylaise on their brows, the thorny bushes of Dirthamen, the evil bows of Anduril. I screwed my face up in disgust and closed the tarp on the boat. I retrieved my gear from the cargo sling and clasped my cloak tightly about my neck. 

Without a glimpse over my shoulder, I padded away across the river toward Haven, disappearing over the ridge toward the dawn just as the camp began to take its morning shape.


	3. New Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ithelana and Solas finally reunite outside of the Fade and fall into their routine.

Haven was crawling with the shadows. Human men and women argued over fleeting matters. Bare-faced flat-ears carried trays back and forth, without knowing how lucky they were. The few dalish that were there acted feral, congregating together like a glob of oil in the sea. I mingled among them for awhile before leaving them. They grated my nerves. The lore they spouted, the language they mangled, the slave brands they wore with a sense of superiority, even their state of dress and cleanliness were enough to drive me away. The worst part was that they believed themselves superior to the others. If only they knew. So I stuck to the shadows and bedded in the forest outside the city walls. 

One night, I decided to hunt again, but in a different manner. I began with simply my bow, padding through the soft snow in utter silence. I listened for game in the trees, but was left with nothing substantial. After some time, I began to sense a follower and decided to use a few tricks to trap them. I kept my bow drawn, but began to dodge through trees. A few moments later, I mouthed an old spell I knew for stealth. It shielded me and my aura from view, allowing for easy movement and attacks. 

But I wanted to toy with my prey. I disappeared and quickly dropped my screen far to the right of my tag. I heard a shift in movement after a long pause trying to relocate me. A few more rounds of this, however, and I still did not shake them. 

So I played to fear. I disappeared again, but before materializing, I focused my energy and changed form to that of a fox. I stopped in front of my tag before resuming visibility. The curious thing about shapeshifting is that, if the spell is not properly executed, the subject’s eyes glow an eerie green. 

And I had not done this for a very long time. 

So when I appeared, I expected my tail to recoil in fear, but when I turned toward him, I was face to face with a fearsome wolf. This wolf stood six feet at the shoulder and stared me down with six glowing red eyes. I knew that form. 

I quickly reverted and waited for him to do the same. 

When he did I stared at him, taking in every inch of him. Out of the Fade, he lost that shimmering quality. But, to my mild distress, he looked smaller. Weaker. Uthenera was difficult on him.

But it was still him, “Solas,” I whispered. 

He smiled softly, “Ithelana, it is good to see you, lethallin.”I smiled. In the past, I had certainly felt that heat coiling in my belly that I felt now. The issue was that displaying a weakness to our enemies was a very real issue. I had always hoped, though…

“Yes,” I hesitated, “it is good to see you too. I hope you’ll forgive me for the trickery. I wanted to have a little fun. Release a little tension,” I relaxed, remembering all of our history. He smiled mischievously. “You haven’t lost your ease of hiding in plain sight, I see,” I continued. He had a talent for holding his aura as close as a second skin. 

He laughed heavily, “I do not blame you. In fact, it was more of a challenge than anything else I’ve encountered among these people.”

“This much we can agree on,” I laughed with him, “I stumbled upon one or two Dalsih encampments and nearly gagged when they claimed they were true descendants of the people.” 

His smile faltered, “Yes, they are rather confident in themselves, though there was a time when it could be said that we were the ones, the ones who forgot them, that left them to deteriorate to such a state. We can be no more disgusted with them than we are with ourselves.” 

I conceded with a half-hearted roll of my eyes and a nod, “Yes, yes. You don’t have to put on your airs around me, lethallin. I know you better than you perhaps know yourself.” 

He drew a corner of his mouth up, marking the clear signs of irritation. Though with who, I was not sure, “Irthabelas. I’ve played my role for too long.”

“Ah, yes. Your role. Let me first show you mine,” I lowered my hood and he visibly flinched at the branches strangling my cheekbones. “I am here as an outcast. I go by Ithelana Halea Lavellan. A hunter who manifested late in life, and whose clans was murdered. I am barren. I know no spells. But I am quick with a bow, and ready for hire.” I extended a hand toward him, “Andarian’atien, vhashra halalrel prenna?” Blessed be your arrival, what is your name?

“I am simply Solas, an apostate born to a servant mother in the north of Thedas,” he began, “I have studied ruins and the fade my whole life, and now seek to explore the history of Humankind. It is a guise to find the orb,” he fell out of character, and I rebuked him. 

“I came from nothing and come from nothing. I have traveled to the corners of this land and have been rejected from many places, thus I now travel alone.” 

“A pleasure,” I said lazily, finding myself lost in his storming eyes, “to make your acquaintance.” 

“Enough of the charade, Lana. We have business to take care of,” he urged. 

“Yes, yes. You need me to clean up another mess, no?” I said liltingly. 

He sighed, “It’s not a mess, yet. I don’t intend to let it get that far,” I cleared my throat and raised my eyebrows and he rephrased with a sigh, “I expect that you will be able to stop it before it gets that far.” I smiled and nodded. 

“I can do that, Solas. Just give me more background.” And he did. He filled me in of Corypheus’s plans for the orb and the divine and the breach.


	4. A New Role

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter is.... much longer than the last few. For this I apologize, but I also have written through so many of the opening sequence stories that I didn't really feel like drawing it out.

I had picked up a security job in the wing and I passed by the Divine quarters. The day after Solas and I spoke, there was a commotion in the living quarters after I had gone to investigate the Divine’s mysterious and uncharacteristic tardiness from her own council. I knocked on the door, but there was no response where there was usually a relaxed immediacy. 

I paused, puzzled, and knocked again. Still nothing. So it’s happened then. Corypheus is here. I steeled myself and sprinted for the ritual chamber on the other side of the secluded courtyard. I heard her cry and pushed through the doors. There he was. He had been mangled by Solas’s foci. Red lyrium protruded from his body, casing his papery, gray skin to stretch and glow as though it were aflame. A consuming force that you couldn’t look away from. 

“What’s going on here?” I shouted like an imbecile. Of course I knew. 

At the shock of an intruder, Corypheus dropped the orb and it rolled to my feet. Then I broke my cardinal rule. I bent down and scooped up Solas’s foci. In a blinding flash, I fell to my knees and felt myself be sucked to the Fade, the Divine close behind. 

I surprisingly don’t remember what happened in the Fade for those few minutes, or even in the moments leading to the shift of reality. It must be a form of amnesia triggered by the mixing of magic. If that was the only effect of that, I would be rather pleased. 

I came to consciousness as though I were clawing through a sea of honey. I was slow moving, sticky, and I tasted the sweetness of elf root on my tongue. My eyes opened wider and were met with an array of weapons pointed at me. I froze and attempted to hold up my hands, but found them shackled and chained to the ground. I sighed in resignation. 

In that moment, my left palm burst to life in a shocking demonstration of green light. It was like my hand was placed in a vise and pressed between two unmoving objects. One was my own aura, attempting to fight the intruder, and the other was, shockingly, Solas’s. It fought to gain hold, and it seemed to be succeeding. 

I panted as the door to my cell burst open. 

A woman with close cropped hair stormed toward me, sword drawn, “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now!” she drawled in anger. 

I was at a loss for words and steeled myself to her advance. 

“Enough, Cassandra, we need her,” another woman put a hand on her shoulder and this prompted the other woman to withdraw. 

Then she turned to me and calm asked, in a way that was far more intimidating than the other, “Who are you? And what have you to do with the explosion in the temple?“

I opened my mouth and closed it, trying to recall an explosion that may have landed em here, “Explosion? Was anyone hurt?” 

This Casandra blared, “Hundreds are dead! Do not play the fool!” 

I shook my head and forced tears to my eyes, “All those people… dead?” 

This flipped a switch somewhere, the tears and the obliviousness, “You really don’t know?” The hooded woman asked. 

I shook my head, “No, I don’t what happened?” 

“They’re calling it the breach, the explosion that was triggered cleared and in the sky there appeared a massive tear. Through it pour demons and other such beings,” Cassandra explained through gritted teeth. 

I felt my face go white. The Breach. The veil was coming down. No no no no no. This was far too soon. This world was not prepared. This had to be stopped. 

The hooded woman laid a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder again, “ Perhaps she could help. The apostate did suggest that the mark on her hand would do something, after all.” 

Cassandra nodded and eyed me for a moment, “Yes….” She drew a key from her side and said, “Leliana, get to the foreword base and we will meet you there, I wish to try something.” 

Leliana nodded and left, and Cassandra knelt to undo the chain tethering me to the ground. I held my wrist out to her so she could unlock my wrists. but she turned away. I meant it as a gesture of good will, really, I could easily melt through them. I shook my head and followed her reluctantly, I had to build trust. 

The sun hurt my eyes as I walked through the main doors. I lifted a had to shield myself from the brightness and my hand shot to life again. I groaned under the weight of the invading aura and my knees buckled. I managed to catch myself before sinking to the ground, however. Cassandra put a mailed hand in the crook of my elbow after I had recovered, but I decided that I should play off the occurrence as far worse than reality for my own benefit. I grimaced and my knees buckled again as I sank to the ground. That would earn me some pity at least. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

I nodded and looked past her toward the sky at the Breach “That’s doing this to my hand?” 

Cassandra pressed her lips together, “We think so, yes. We also think that you could close it. I need to take you to one of the smaller anomalies to test it.” 

“How far?” I panted. 

“Across the valley,” she replied quickly, “Will you help?”

Showtime. I gave her a pained expression and said through short breaths, “If I can help, I will. But I would rather do so with my weapons in hand.”

She pursed her lips again in conflict, “I appreciate your desire to help, but I cannot trust you with a weapon.”

I sighed and got to my feet and followed her through the town. I kept my head bowed and ears flattened like a scared animal as I walked past the townsfolk. Their eyes seared into me like hot brands. They hated me. The wanted me to be guilty, and Cassandra confirmed as much. 

It wasn’t far outside the gates that Cassandra turned back to me and un hitched my hands from their shackles. I rubbed my wrists and looked to her for explanation, but none came. She just gave me a look that said Don’t blow this. I’m trusting you. 

We walked past the gate and were frequently met with contingents of soldiers running toward the village. I made no move of disapproval, but continued to run alongside my guide.   
It wasn’t long before we were met with shades. They had fallen from the Breach, and I tried my best to act as though I was fearful. As she charged ahead, I grunted in helplessness. I could, truly, use magic, but it would blow my cover. So, I scanned about me for something to use. 

In an overturned cart that had fallen from a bridge was a welcome sight: my weapons. They must have had them sent from the temple ruins to the village and the wagon went rouge. I picked up the daggers and strapped them to my belt, the staff to my back. I lifted the bow and nocked an arrow, drawing back the string, and letting it fly true. I found its mark in the head of a shade and it dissipated quickly. 

It fell just as Cassandra had turned to strike it, and seeing that I had fired the arrow, she reared on me. I dropped my bow’s arc toward the ground as she approached, sword drawn. She bristled, and it seemed that she would not hesitate in killing me. So I kept my bow drawn. 

“Put it down,” she warned. 

I stared back in defiance and replied curtly, “No. If you’re leading me through here, would it not be preferable that I defend myself?” 

She pursed her lips and sighed in anger, but lowered her sword. She gave me the same look as on the bridge, “You are right. It is foolish of me to leave you unarmed.” 

I slung my bow over my shoulder and nodded carefully, “Thank you. Let’s move.”

I followed her through the valley once more. We ran into a few more bouts of shades and spirits, but we carved through them with ease. As we ascended the mountain, I heard shouting and the sounds of battle. I drew my bow. 

“You can hear them ahead! Move!” she shouted. 

“Who’s shouting?” 

“You’ll see,” she said vaguely. I rolled my eyes. Was it so difficult to just tell me?

As we eased over the crest of the hill, I saw the battle unfold. There was a rift spewing demons into the fray and only a few still stood to fight them. Cassandra had just joined, but there was a dwarf, a few soldiers, and Solas. Of course he was still here. I’m sure he is the one who kept me from dying. 

I disappeared in a cloud of smoke and sprinted to the other edge, above where Solas and the dwarf stood against the rock face. I nocked several arrows and let them fly into the fray, dropping two shades, before leaping in with my blades. 

I fought alongside the pair, covering their backs and keeping any demons from getting in too close of a range. When there was an opening, Solas grabbed my hand and thrust it toward the rift. His aura poured through the mark and a green beam sprung forward and connected me to the rift. I gasped in real pain this time. I knew what he was doing. He was withdrawing his magic. He wasn’t being gentle either, he hid the hasty act behind the beam. Essentially, he was tearing away his aura like one might rip out an arrow, except he hadn’t given me anything to ease the pain, and he pulled the wrong way. 

When the Rift snapped shut, I was left with the mark, but the fresh, albeit invisible, wound remained. He briefly gave me a sorrowful look and I grimaced in pain before he turned to the others. 

“Even with her limited Dalish magic, your charge handled this remarkably well. Most impressive,” he said to Cassandra. What he meant was, I am glad, and impressed, you survived that. I groaned in response. 

Playing on the ignorance angle, “What did you do?” I looked at my now inert hand, still pulsing with my bleeding mana. 

“I did nothing,” he replied, “the credit goes to you.” The power is yours now, I have withdrawn myself from you. 

“You mean—,” I caught myself from slipping, “You mean the magic is mine now?”

“Yes. It is yours to control. I am pleased to see that you lived through that,” he said. He meant that, too. We both knew the dangers. 

The dwarf then chimed in, “What he meant to say is that he watched you while you slept for two days taking care of you, and he’s happy all of his hard work didn’t go to waste.” That was, of course another possibility. I gave him a sideways smirk that reflected the feeling I had when I knew that he had troubled himself so over me. 

“Varric Tethras,” he bowed and kissed my hand in a grand gesture, “a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” As he bent forward, I caught a glimpse of a magnificently complex cropsbow strapped to his back. 

“Nice, crossbow,” I chuckled. 

“Ah, thanks. Bianca and I have been through a lot together,” he smiled broadly. 

“You… named your crossbow Bianca? There must be a story there,” I said probingly, but he didn’t give. 

“That’s for another time….,” he waited for me to finish with my name. 

“Ithelana Halea Lavellan, Lana for brevity,” I supplied shaking his hand firmly. 

“Lana… well that’s just too boring, I’ll have to think of a better name than that,” he thrust a thumb over his shoulder at Solas, “Solas here, for instance, I call him Chuckles. You can probably guess why.” I certainly could, even now he rolled his eyes at the lightheartedness and tapped his foot impatiently. Cassandra rolled her eyes as well and turned with him to continue onward. Varric and I followed. 

“What about… Red?” he referenced my hair, but I screwed up my nose in rejection of the idea. 

“All right, all right… I’ll think of something once I get to know you better,” he elbowed me in the side and winked dramatically. 

I smiled back. I truly could not tell if he was genuine or not. I decided to mirror his behavior back. 

“And? What shall I call you besides Varric?” I laughed. 

“Please, Varric is enough,” he waved nonchalantly. 

“Very well,” I answered, “Your loss, I’m good at nicknames."

The journey though the valley was short, with a few impasses here and there. Mostly it was the occasional group of rifts and such. That is, until we came upon the forward station on the bridge. 

I remained a few paces behind Cassandra and Solas and Varric were a few paces behind me. I recognized the hooded woman from the Chantry as Leliana, but the man on the other side of her was new to me. As was his regalia. 

He caught sight of me and rounded the edge of the table in what can only be described as a shrewish manner. He was a solid six inches shorter than me, but he still managed to spit in my eyes. I wiped away a few flecks of spittle as I listened to him ramble on about me being a threat to the chantry and about me belonging in chains. 

I looked to Cassandra and Leliana over his shoulder and they shook their heads at him. The man continued shouting at me even as I shouldered past him. I heard a laugh from Solas behind me, but the the man looked abashedly at me. His mouth gaped like a fish. 

“How dare you!” he yelled, “You are a danger to the Chantry and the Maker demands that you be brought to justice!” 

I rolled my eyes, “Well it is certainly fortunate then that I do not recognize his authority then, isn’t it?”

“I-,” Cassandra held a hand up at him, but she looked at me strangely then. 

“Chancellor Roderick, with all due,” she sneered, “respect… You have little experience or authority in this moment. I ask that you step aside."

He gaped, again, “Cassandra! How dare you! I-,” no Leliana cut him off with a glare. He turned, grumbling away. 

“Now,” Leliana addressed us, “We have matters to attend. The way it appears to me, we have two options. We can charge with the troops, or you can take a small party through the mountains. Personally, I would opt for the latter, as I am missing a squad of scouts in that run.”

I didn’t realize she was looking to me until Varric elbowed my side. 

“I don’t see why this should be my decision,” I said, “I just got here!” 

“Yes, but only you can close that,” Leliana gestured to the breach. 

“Ah, yes. That,” I said pensively, “In that case, I suppose it would be best if we went through the passage. I’m no brawler, and from the looks of them, I assume my companions aren’t either.”

Cassandra’s sour face worsened when she heard that, but she made no response. I can tell she would have preferred to charge with the troops. I simply did not see the point of me doing so. We needed to get in quick and get out faster. 

“Very well,” Leliana said, “I should stay here. Cassandra knows the way through the passage.”

“Yes,” Cassandra turned on her heel and made her way toward the gate, “We should move.” 

I nodded to Leliana and followed after Cassandra through the doors at the end of the bridge. We fought our way through the valley largely in silence before reaching the passage. It was simply a small cavernous opening at first, but later on it became more structured. Pillars and carved stone spoke of inhabitancy at some point. I’m sure if I had a few moments in the fade I could see who was here. 

Finally, daylight streamed ahead of us, and we ventured into the open air. 

Varric let out a sigh of relief, “God, I hate caves.”

I turned sharply, “You’re a dwarf!”

He laughed, “Yeah, yeah. I’m a dwarf so why am I up here, right? Well, if you’re an elf, why aren’t you with your clan? And why doesn’t Chuckles have the Vallaslin?” 

I nodded, “Fair enough, I suppose.” I turned away and continued forward for a time before we reached another rift, where Leliana’s scouts were fighting for their lives. There were only three of them holding on, it seemed that there had at one point been more. 

Cassandra had rushed ahead, and I ordered Varric and Solas to take up position on the sides while I shifted to my daggers. I hurled a smoke bomb at my feet and moved behind one of the shades, plunging my knife in its back and withdrawing just as it sunk to the ground. The fight was long, but finally I found enough of a gap to close the rift with my hand. It was painful. The muscles in my arm strained against the vice-like struggle. I didn’t know how many more times I could do that. 

The rift finally snapped shut and I sagged visibly. I was out of breath. I shot Solas a frustrated glare, and he met me with an apology. 

“You’re her?” I heard someone say. It was one of the scouts. A small human woman with a bow and quiver strapped to her back. “We found you in the ruins! You’re- Was this you?”

The awestruck look on her face was slowly moving toward rage. 

I stood, “This wasn’t me. I swear on my life and the lives of my people.”

She shook her head and I saw her hand twitch at her side, “My brother was in there, you know.”

“I am so sorry. I promise you that there was nothing I could do. I don’t even remember the explosion. I’m trying to fix this, but I need your help to do it,” I said calmly. 

“Why should I trust you?”

I couldn’t think of a reason, “You tell me. I can’t think of a reason. Just. Trust me.”

Cassandra stepped up to my side, “I can vouch for her, Lieutenant. Report back to the foreword station. Leliana is waiting for you.” 

The scout nodded and gestured for her men to follow her through the passage. 

Cassandra looked at me strangely. It was not the same look as before. Unreadable, but not angry. 

“Let’s keep moving,” I said, “How far away are we?” I continued through the passage without waiting for a response, expecting them to follow. Something about Cassandra made my skin crawl when she looked at me. It was as though I was under a lens. Like she was looking at my every flaw. It made time slow to a crawl.

The Temple of sacred ashes sprawled in front of me like a crater. The bodies littered the floor. Some were frozen in place. Screaming. Clawing at their eyes. Their arms. Clawing. I hadn’t seen something like this for many years. 

“That is where our men found you,” Cassandra gestured to a far corner of the crater, “You stepped out of the fade. They say there was a woman behind you.”

My ears pricked, “A woman?” I truly did not remember anything from the past 24 hours. That was something that rarely happened to me. 

“Yes, I am not sure of the details otherwise. I am sure rumors will develop.”

“Who do you think it is?” I looked at her over my shoulder, “You seem religious.”

She looked sharply at me and seemed to stare through me. I also caught Varric and Solas share an uncomfortable look. They surely did not want to hear me and a Seeker discuss religion. But I had no qualms about provoking a conflict preemptively. 

“I do not know what to believe,” she pursed her lips in anger. Humans. They were so aversive to conflict. Mostly. I have met some confrontational humans in my day. 

“Hmm,” I said eyeing her. She backed down. The moment was mine. That was a large part of my conversational tactic: say something disarming out of the blue and fill the vacuum they leave. “I am inclined to believe that the woman was simply a fade spirit.”

“I agree,” Solas said from behind me. 

Varric cleared his throat, “Okay, everyone, you can relax. Bigger fish to fry, remember?” 

I turned eyes front and smiled to myself. 

Now we stood in front of the Breach. It was lofted into the sky and loomed above us like a giant eye. Watching. Now I wondered if I really had opened it. No. It wouldn’t have been. This was Solas’s magic… Of course with the mixing of 2 great powers could come with great consequences. 

“So, what am I to do here? Go all the way up or something?” I said in false confusion. Obviously, I would have to reopen and close the rift connected to the Breach by a giant green thread. 

“Oh, no. You’ll have to take care of the smaller rift first. In theory, that will control the closing of the larger rift,” Cassandra was obviously paraphrasing Solas. 

“Very well,” I said. We ventured further down into the Temple. A booming voice arched over us. Demanding that a sacrifice be held still. That now was the hour of reckoning. I lagged back and let Cassandra and Varric lead so I could speak with Solas, in a sense. 

I nudged his aura with mine and he looked over at me and he pushed back in response. I looked at him in concern over the voice and he nodded. The voice was Corypheus. I looked forward and swallowed. Solas, what did you do?

I leapt into the bottom of the temple and as soon as my feet hit the ground, the mark flared and I stumbled. Before our eyes, a projection from the fade took shape. A woman in religious vestments hovered, arms outstretched. She looked to be in pain. 

“That’s the Divine!” Cassandra looked ready to leap into the Breach. 

Out of the blue, I ran into the scene. I shouted, in a startlingly nonchalant tone of voice, “What’s going on here?” That didn’t sound right, but then again the Fade has a tendency to twist the truth. 

“Help me!” the Divine cried. The scene went dead. 

Cassandra turned sharply in me and her expression was a strange mix of furious and excited, “She called out to you!”

I stepped back, “I don’t remember that happening! I don’t remember anything!”

She saw my fear and blinked, “I was not blaming you.” She looked past me to Solas, “Tell us what must be done.”

He moved past me and addressed the men around us. “The rift is sealed, for now, albeit poorly. We will need to open it once more and close it again. If we are successful, it would likely follow that the Breach will at least seal temporarily,” he looked to me and nodded, “Are you prepared for this?”

He nudged me. I shrugged and nudged him back. He was sorry. 

“Do I have another option?” I laughed and Varric chuckled with me, “Yes, I am ready.” I readied my bow and moved beside Solas. 

“Are you really ready?” he muttered to me. His lips barely moved and his ears were lowered in focus. He was nervous. 

“Please, piece of cake,” I smiled back reassuringly. He pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. He wasn’t convinced. 

“Ready!” I shouted. I lifted my hand toward the rift and focused my energy in my palm. The green thread tore the rift open and I was forced backward. I drew my bow and nocked an arrow in preparation before a massive pride demon burst through. 

Arrows flew from the walls and Cassandra’s men flocked about the demon’s feet. Solas and the other mages stood at mid distance, with a few of the knight enchanters joining the fray. I was somewhere between them all. I tried to flirt with the edge of the battle so I could land blows while staying free enough to disrupt the rift. Finally, I felt it was time for a final push. 

I called a few soldiers to cover me as I began my last assault. I raised my hand once more and pooled my mana. The green connected to the rift, but something was different. It required much more to close a rift of this scale. I felt straining in my arm, but I couldn’t retract. I was tethered to the rift. My arm was warping with the magic. It was foreign to my own and this mixture of power drew on my strength. I gritted my teeth. I felt my arm pop and strain and finally screamed in pain. I sunk to my knees and felt tears streaming down my cheeks. When the magic severed I blacked out. I was also fairly certain that I had crushed my arm.


	5. Herald of Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it needs to be said, Lana is not an Andrastian, knowing that Andraste was no divine force, just a remarkable woman. Hearing that she is her Herald comes as a shock.

My head swam. The ceiling swirled as I tried to sit up. My clothing had been replaced some ill fitted cloth uniform that was all too human. Leather shoes covered my feet and I grimaced at the feeling. When I tried to stand, my knees buckled and I fell heavily onto the side of the bed. A theme as of late, apparently. A figure stood quickly from a seat by the fire and ushered me back into a sitting position. 

“Lana, helavanetanale,” Solas sighed. How will we get out of this one?

“Helagathentanale,” I retorted through my teeth. How did we get into this one?

“I am so sorry that this happened,” he sighed, “How do you feel?”

“Like I was crushed into a million pieces and reassembled,” I groaned, “poorly.”

“And your mana?”

“Fine. Closing the breach seems to have stabilized it,” I groaned, “Now its just the rest of me that hurts.” My arm was still on fire, “What’s the damage?”

Solas began mixing elf root, blood lotus, and dawn lotus in a potent health potion, “The strain from our mixing manas caused a compound fracture in your forarm. The antagonizing muscles had generated enough force to fracture the bone. You lost blood from the wound, and I was able to mend much of the damage, but there is going to be a good deal of pain and perhaps delirium for sometime,” he brought the steaming mug to my side. 

“So back to old times? I get hurt, and you fix me?” I laughed and took the mug, putting my lips around the rim. The warm tea flooded my veins and I felt the mending at work. I traced a rune in the air above the mug for renewal and magic glittered and settled in a dazzling pattern on the surface of the tea. 

He snorted in that soft way I remembered, “Amusing,” he looked at his hands and took a deep breath. Then he looked up at me, “I was worried about you. Ever since I learned that you fell ill I have been at your side tending to your wounds. I—.”

The door burst open and a serving girl came in, a flat ear. She carried a tray with herbs and bread on it, presumably for Solas. 

Solas stood slowly and we eyed her as her eyes widened and she looked between us. 

“I— Oh! My apologies, Herald!” she dropped to one knee and bowed her head, “If I’d known you were awake, I would have—.”

“Really its all right, da’len,” I looked questioningly to Solas and he looked at me expectantly, “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you call me Herald?” 

She looked up at me in surprise. “Oh! My apologies! I—,” she seemed to remember something, “Lady Cassandra! She told me to send you to the Chantry as soon as you were awake!” She rose, picking up the platter and set it on the table by the door. 

“Wait! I—,” I called after her. 

“‘As soon as she’s awake’, she said,” the door closed behind her and I fell back on the bed. 

“Herald?”I said wearily. 

Solas chuckled, “Ah, yes. The Herald of Andraste,” he said in an affected tone. 

“Andraste?” I sat up again, “You mean that human woman who was burned at the stake?”

“Yes, one and the same,” he said with a sly smile.

“How history loves the martyr,” I stood and made to change. I unbuttoned the front of the pajamas and let it fall to the ground. A human woman, even a dalish, might be prudish and wait, but the elvhen had no qualms about such things. We celebrated the body and its beauty. I finished donning the rest of the armor the humans set before me. It was heavy and stiff, but it would do just fine. Though, I did opt for my leather leg wraps and forego the heavy boots. 

“Uthenera was kind to you,” Solas hummed. I turned to eye him. He was usually so reserved about such matters, but something had changed while we were apart. I felt that what we had was no longer platonic. I supposed I should measure my next words carefully. 

I turned back to the table with a pleased smile, “It was kind to both of us, lethallin,” I lifted my bow and quiver onto my back and picked up my staff. Turning back to him, I let my eyes wander across his frame, “Abe’brelisana.” Very kind. I playfully nudged him with my aura, and then turned on my heel and left the cabin. He pushed into my aura just as the door closed and I yelped in surprise, much to his amusement. 

The people outside looked at each other with surprise as I emerged. They quickly bowed their heads and placed a fist on their breasts. An oath. I widened my eyes and continued on, acting fairly bewildered and, frankly, feeling so. These people were so quick to deify. In arlathan, no act was worth being made a god. Only two things could do so: respect and fear. Which would I use? 

I ascended the stairs to the Chantry, still ill at ease from the wide eyes and bowed heads. 

The door to the war room was closed, but I heard the squabbling as clear as day: 

“She is a criminal! She killed the divine!” Roderick shouted. 

“Lavellan helped us close the breach. Would a criminal do such a thing?” 

“Of course! To cover her actions up!” 

I eased the door open behind him, “I believe I can speak for myself, Chancellor.”

He wheeled around and called for the templars behind me, “There she is! I want her in custody and ready for travel to Val Royeaux within the hour!” 

Cassandra growled, “Belay that. Chancellor, If you wouldn’t mind.” She motioned for him to leave. 

He grumbled, but turned to the door. The templars followed him out and closed the door behind themselves. I sighed and turned back to the table where the others were staring me down. I twitched my ears. 

“I suppose you expect an explanation for my sudden appearance,” I said calmly. The man across the table from me cocked his head to one side, expectant. I hadn’t met him before, but I could tell he was trusting Leliana and Cassandra’s assessment of my character. His eyes were narrow and the muscles in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. I laughed lightly at him, “Ser, I can assure you that I have no plans to attack you or anyone else affiliated with you organization. If you will hear what I say, I hope that I can change your attitude.” 

He shifted and relaxed, but his the vein in his forehead remained. 

“My name is Ithelana Lavellan formerly of Clan Lavellan. I was a master huntress in the clan before I manifested magic late in my life. I learned to control it, yes, but I failed to use it when my clan was wiped out by human nobles from a neighboring city, perhaps someday I will share more but for now I don’t wish to answer questions,” I looked to them and waited for introductions. 

A noble woman cleared her throat and responded, “My name is Josephine Montiliyet of Antiva. I serve as diplomat and ambassador for this organization. You’ve met our spymaster, Leliana, as well as our resident seeker, Cassandra Pentghast,” she motioned to the man before me, “This is our Commander Cullen Rutherford, General of our armies.” 

I nodded, “A pleasure to meet all of you. You bear such impressive titles,” I smiled nervously at them in turn and they eyed me with even more curiosity than before. I coughed and straightened my face, “Anyway, I have a question. You keep referring to yourselves as ‘this organization’ or ‘us’ but what, exactly, does that mean?”

Leliana and Cassandra shared a look and she cleared her throat, “That is why we are here, Lady Lavellan—“

“Please. Lana is fine. Ithelana if you must,” I interrupted.

“Of course, my apologies. We asked you here to form a New Inquisition to handle this issue of the Breach. We much close it permanently , or else we face the destruction of our world.” 

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise, “And I relate to this endeavor in what way, exactly?” 

Cassandra interjected, “You are the only one with the power to close these Rifts, Herald. We would not be able to do this without you.” 

“To this I can agree, ladies and gentleman. This is a problem that indeed must be resolved. However, I would like to ask you one more question, if you would indulge me so,” I paused expectantly and they waited, “Wonderful. Now to take on such an endeavor, we would need a great deal of power. Once we accomplish our goal, what do we do with it?” 

They shifted. Cullen spoke, “Our goal is to keep peace in these nations. For now, that means closing the Breach. Once that goal is accomplished, we will decide how to proceed.” 

“And what if we are told by, say, one of our neighboring nations, whose support and dual cooperation will be necessary, that they will not help us if we have our own standing army?”

Josephine cleared her throat, “In my opinion as ambassador, this is an issue they will be unable to ignore.” 

I snorted, “A bold assumption, considering Roderick was certainly ready to condemn me despite being the only hope to save the world.”

“Not all world leaders are like Roderick,” the Commander grumbled, “thank the Maker.”

I stared into the middle distance in though. Eventually, I nodded, “Though not a convincing argument, I have no choice but to help you if I want to save lives. One stipulation: the moment we take moves against civilians is the moment I leave.” 

The Commander softened his glare and nodded, “I agree, Herald.” 

“And another thing,” I said irritably, “Enough with this Herald of Andraste business. I am no Andrastian.” 

“Of course, Ithelana, but this is how you are already known to the people,” Josephine added.

I laughed, “Oh this I know. I do hope I can change that,” I looked at Leliana, “Alright, what steps must we take to make this a reality, spymaster?” 

She smiled at me. In the next weeks I embarked with the small group of travelers I had met during the Battle of the Breach. We trekked through the Hinterlands gathering the beginnings of our little Inquisition.   
——

Weeks later we were camped alongside Lake Lucian in the Hinterlands with Blackwall and Varric. The moon was a sliver in the sky and our camp was lit only by the cooking fire. Blackwall had polished his armor and retired to his tent, but Varric occupied Solas at the fire with stories of his time in Kirkwall. I had polished my armor and weapons and waded into the lake to bathe, abandoning my underclothes on the bank of the lake. The water was cool and refreshing and I let my mana extend through the water instead of holding it tightly to myself. I scrubbed my skin with a cloth until my skin was pink. Clean. 

I rose from the bank and put my fresh clothing on after drying myself. I turned back to the water and washed out the soiled clothing by scrubbing it against the rocks. Then, I carried the bundle of wet linen and squeezed out the water before hanging it by the fire to dry overnight. I sat heavily next to Varric on the log and spooned myself a bowl of stew. We sat in silence and I let my eyes drift up to the stars. I traced the constellations for several minutes until Varric elbowed me. 

“What about you, Fireball? Any tall tales to share with us?” 

I laughed and looked into the fire, “I have something for you. I was on a scouting mission in the northern marches with a few underlings of mine when we stumbled upon a camp of humans in the forest. They were raucous, rowdy, and ready to burn just about anything. We decided to have some fun with them. Now, this was after I had a little magic under my belt so I was able to figure the odd illusion and transfiguration. I’ll tell you I made the other hunters to truly seem like the undead. The smell, the rotting skin, and the moans were all perfect. We waited until they were drunk off their asses and then we made our move. I made the fire flare up to almost touch the canopy above us and then die to almost nothing. That’s when we began to move into the camp. The men fell back on their asses and began to scramble backward. That’s when the fog began to roll in. And me of course,” Varric was smiling but rather uneasy. Perhaps he thought it was a little sadistic, “There I was, a ghostly woman,” I broke into a fit of laughter, “dressed in a rabbit costume.When I say they scrambled like eggs, I tell you no lies.” Varric’s concerned expression melted into a smile as I finished my story and he nodded through his chuckles.

“Very crafty, Fireball. I like it!” He slapped his knees and stood, “Alright, you two, I’m going to sleep. I’m going to assume you’d rather share a tent with Chuckles than the odoriferous Warden so I’ll bite that arrow for you.” 

I blushed, “Well, I wouldn’t say that, but it is your choice where to sleep,” I looked over my shoulder to make sure Blackwall wasn’t listening. I turned back to Varric and mouthed, I owe you one. 

Varric laughed to himself and turned to the tent, ducking under the flaps and winking at me as they swished closed. Solas stood behind me and extended his hand to me. I took it and he helped me up off the log. I stood and made my way to the unoccupied tent with Solas trailing behind me. We closed to flaps behind us and I readied my bedroll. Solas laid next to me under the blanket, having stripped his shirt off. He lay on his back and as I unfurled the blankets I couldn’t help but notice the toned planes of his chest as they rose and fell. A smile tugged at my lips and I laid down inside my bedroll and closed my eyes. 

I felt my consciousness enter the Fade, and let it drift to the memories of the area. I saw wild horses roaming the hills. I saw hunters and the early Avaar descending the mountains. I pushed further back and was met with a sight that was completely contrasting with the other moments. The elvhen sprinted through the trees as the humans chased after them. Women and children. Civilians. Arrows rained from the sky and punctured through their chests.


	6. Val Royeaux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ithelana ventures to Val Royeaux and meets Lord Seeker Lucius. They do not get on well.

After two weeks in the Hinterlands aiding the refugees of the war, we decided we could do more good by returning to Haven and seeking further aid from outside parties. I had received a raven on the return that mentioned our presence was requested by the Grand Clerics in Val Royeaux. So, after some convincing of the other leaders of our little organization, it was decided that my party and I would be the ones to meet them. 

“With all due respect, Lady Herald,” Josephine resound with us, “I hardly think you are familiar enough with Chantry politics to make this statement.” 

Internally, I felt something akin to insulted, but I only shrugged, “I’ve travelled a good deal in my time, and if there is one thing I have noticed it is that humans, especially Southerners, are not as politically complex as they like to think they are. At the core most actions, Chantry or no, is greed. It is a tool that has come in handy for me. A lever to topple corruption.” Josephine pressed her lips into a line, clearly a bit insulted herself. 

“Be that as it may, you will not be received well,” she said directly, “I suggest you at least bring the Seeker with you.”

“I won’t go alone,” I said evenly. I looked to the others and found Leliana studying me intently. Hers was the only scrutiny under which I felt uneasy. Cullen, on the other hand, looked distasteful.

He spoke, “Its unfortunate that the Chantry has excommunicated us so quickly. It will compromise our position in the eyes of the common people. As much as I would think it good posturing, I don’t think we should send a guard with you and our party.”

I nodded, “I agree, Commander. There is no reason for us to threaten,” I looked back down at the map, “Cassandra, be ready to depart at dawn tomorrow. I will tell Solas and Varric to prepare as well.”

I felt her tense at the mention of the dwarf, but she nodded, “Very well, Herald.” 

The meeting soon adjourned, and I had messengers carry the news of the mission to the others. I made my way to the cabin they set aside for me and packed a light bag for the morning.   
—-  
When we arrived in Val Royeaux I was indeed impressed with the grandeur of it all. The Orlesians had a fondness for shiny things and bright colored fabrics that pleased the eyes. I recalled back to the founding of this capital when it was but a few market stalls parked in the mud. How far they had come. 

As we approached the main gates, an Inquisition scout approached and saluted us with a fist over her heart. I returned the gesture and nodded at her. She took a position at ease and cleared her throat. 

“My Lady, we have spread word of the Inquisition’s arrival here in the city. You should know that the people see us as barbarians. It might do us well to change that image.”

I nodded at the scout, “Good work. Should we require further information, where can I find you and the others?”

The scout shifted, “Myself and the rest of my crew have based ourselves in an inn and tavern off of the wharf. If we are not in the city, you can find us there.”

“Thank you, that is all,” I dismissed her and waited for her to continue on ahead before walking forward. As we entered the city, a guard nodded in recognition at our passing. There were a few gathered throngs of gossiping nobles and workers that stared at us with wide eyes. Two elves, a dwarf, and the Right Hand of the Divine made for an odd group. Whispered begad to gather in eddies and whorls that followed our path like water was disturbed by a fish under the surface. 

We finally made it to the market square, where we were met with a growing crowd of incensed listeners. A woman, presumably a Grand Cleric, was spouting nonsense about the evil of the Inquisition’s insurrection and rebellion. I sighed and my face soured, but Cassandra noticed and send s sharp elbow into my side. 

“Yes, yes,” I muttered. I straightened and began to weave through the crowd of people. I came to stand in direct line of sight of the Grand Cleric. She paused only slightly when she saw Cassandra and I. To her credit, she launched into an impassioned speech almost immediately after: 

“Here they are, come to silence us! The defectors! The Inquisition! The Left and Right Hands themselves have turned their backs on us in our time of need to follow the heretic Herald of Andraste!” She pointed a finger at my chest, “Templars! Come to your station and detain them.” 

I turned my head and saw some templars approaching from the left, led by a grim-looking man. Next to me, Cassandra breathed, “Lord Seeker Lucius? What is he doing in Val Royeaux?”

I readied myself to flee from the templars when they changed their course at Lucius’s direction. Straight toward the Grand Cleric. Without even a bow, they ascended the platform and even I was shocked to see one of the men knock the woman to the ground with a fist. Anyone more than a few feet from the platform would not have heard it, but Lord Seeker Lucius muttered to his men, “Too long has the Chantry suffered from the prattling of old women.”

Cassandra and I exchanged a glance. She seemed uneasy at the display of dissent from the leader of the Templar Order. I took a step closer and raised my voice to be heard, “Pray tell, Lord Seeker, what is the meaning of this?”

He turned his head and zoned in on my party as through he was just realizing we were there, “Ah, the Herald of Andraste,” his voice was dripping with sarcasm, “If you must know, we the Templar Order no longer recognize the authority of the Chantry in our affairs. This is our secession.” 

I bit my cheek to keep from saying anything rash, “So, atop of a civil war in Orlais, a rebellion of the Circles, and the death of the Divine alongside all others lost at Haven, we can now add Chantry in fighting to the list. Atop the gaping hole in the sky?” Perhaps, after hearing the sharp exhale from Cassandra, I let my emotions paint my words too much. Solas nudged me in warning. He usually handled the speeches. Aside from the few nobles who were tittering and gasping at my reply, however, the rest of the common folk were nodding in agreement. 

Lucius grinned at me, like an adult grins at the babbling of a child, “Our quarrel is not with your so called organization, Herald. Do not worry about that.” He turned away from me, “Templars, let us leave this place.” He dismissively walked down the stairs into the crowd. 

I followed after the men with a small growl, “Lord Seeker!” I called to him. He stopped and turned, annoyance clear on his face. 

“Yes, Lady Herald?” He mocked. He stood at ease, a mark of disrespect. I crossed my arms over my chest. 

“There is a matter with which we may require your assistance,” Cassandra cut in now, playing on her familiarity with the man, “With the power of the Templar Order, we may be able to close the breach.”

Lucius frowned, “Seeker Pentghast, why am I not surprised to see you with this ragtag gang of upstarts? You never did think ahead on such matters.” That hit some hidden mark that I was not aware of. Cassandra wilted momentarily, but as soon and the doubt appeared it was replaced with the same stony resolve I knew so well. 

The silent exchange was broken by a templar behind Lucius, “But what if she is Andraste’s chosen, Lord Seeker? Is it not our duty to stand for Our Lady?” 

“Knight-Lieutenant Barris,” Lucius whirled on the man, “We do not consort with pretenders. Regroup with our men outside the city and have them prepare for our departure to Care Oswin.” 

The knight frowned and bowed his head in deference, “Yes, Lord Seeker.” I filed the dispute away as evidence of dissent among the ranks of the Order. Perhaps there would be those willing to defect from Lucius’s regime. 

Lucius, still sour, turned back to us, “I assure you, we will not be in contact about anything pertaining to the Breach or otherwise. Are we understood, Seeker?”

I drew my brows together, “Lord Seeker, you hold no authority over any member of the Inquisition. Your Templars are as much heretics as us, and you will not dole out orders to my people,” I took a step closer so I was looking down my nose at him, “Are we clear?” I could see the resentment on his features. I was so thankful for the height of the Ancient Elves. 

“I don’t take well to threats, Herald,” he growled. 

“Threats?” I mused, “Lucius, I do not make threats, only promises.” I turned on my heel and beckoned my companions to follow me, leaving Lucius glowering behind me.


	7. The Rebels of Redcliffe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is long! Please leave a comment!

I was by no means invested in the social politics of Ferelden, but I could feel the anger rolling off of the townspeople in waves at the presence of the Tevinters in the city. Even to me, it felt strange. Here, among simple farmers and vendors and families, were magisters and slave owners. I did not give them the satisfaction of direct eye contact, but each of them stared after me like I was some kind of wonder. 

The advisors were arguing at length only a few days ago about how we could get into the castle at all to overtake it. At long length, I suggested that we should give Alexius what he wanted: an audience with the Herald of Andraste. I would give Cullen and Leliana enough time to get troops into position through the hidden entrance at the windmill. And so, here I was ascending the stairs to the grand red doors of the throne room. Before I got even a stone’s throw away, a pair of gaudily-uniformed guards barred my entrance with their pikes. 

“Only the Herald has been invited into council with Magister Alexius,” one of them barked. 

I remained neutral in feature and looked back at Solas, Dorian, and the Iron Bull. I raised an eyebrow and turned back to the soldier, drawing myself to full height so I towered over him. I let a bit of mana drain into my voice so it would seem to engulf the man.

“Either my men accompany me to the council, or Alexius will lose his chance at an audience with me altogether, are we clear?” My voice boomed through the room and I felt a thrum of mana from behind me from Solas. 

The soldier frowned at me but he knew I had the upper hand on him, so he let all four of us pass through the doors and to the throne room. I sauntered past him and pushed the doors open. Seated on the throne of the Arl was Alexius, waiting expectantly for me. His guards stood at attention, and at his side stood his son, Felix, who now looked weaker that our last encounter. Alexius’s eyes flickered with annoyance at the presence of my companions, but I made no notice or apology of his distaste. 

“Magister Alexius,” I spoke first as to take the lead in the conversation, “We meet again.”

The cordial smile on his face did not reach his eyes, “Lady Herald. I was hoping you would accept my invitation, though I am disappointed that part of it was ignored.” Again, his eyes flicked to my companions, but I raised my chin. 

“I would be remiss if I did not bring my own counsel to such an important discussion,” I smiled, “But come, this is not Orlais. Let us cut to the quick, no?”

The smile disappeared for a moment before returning, “Very well. You request the aid of the rebel mages of Redcliffe, yes, but what do you offer me that will make this venture worth my while?” 

Anger flashed in my mind and I let my aura take on a hard and unforgiving edge as I forced it outward to occupy more space in the room. Alexius leaned forward in his seat out of interest and I noted that his own aura was loosely held. In fact, many of the mages of this time I had encountered did not seem to understand the value of leaning such a skill. 

“How about instead you explain to me more of your time magic, and I explain to you exactly why your studies are immensely dangerous and, frankly, ill-guided,” I said evenly. Now, the smile disappeared completely. I knew that insulting the intelligence of a Tevinter would have the destabilizing results I desired. 

Alexius stood suddenly and his face was growing red, “The Elder One has a power not even the bearer of the Anchor can comprehend. You toy with a power meant for a god, and it is wasted on you! This power I have discovered is mine! And the Elder One will come with a vengeance to rain doom upon you, pretender!” I let a dagger slip from my sleeve as Alexius swept his staff out in the air. The air was sucked out of the room for a moment as a rift opened up above me. In the distance, I heard Dorian urge the others back, but the moment was cut short as I was tugged through the portal. Light burst around me and I knew this was a magic that could unravel the universe itself. I felt tugged in all directions before I was deposited in a pool of stagnant water. 

Coughing and sputtering, rose to my feet and saw Dorian doing the same. Realizing that I had just been tossed into a time rift to either the future to the past, I began to hyperventilate. Dorian moved to my side, but we soon noticed that we were not alone. The guards that had been outside the door now burst in, and in a panic I let my eyes flash green and the men burst into flame and ash as soon as I looked at them. 

It was a magic I had not used in a very long time on purpose. It was not Dalish, Chasind, Avaar, Tevinter, Circle, or Blood magic. It was Elvhen. A magic borne of a deep connection to the fade that allowed the manipulation of energy as though one was breathing. No incantations, no runes, no hand signs. Any mage worth their salt would see such a display as an ancient magic long lost to any practitioner. And it seemed to me that Dorian picked up on it right away. I backed against a wall and buried my head in my hands to stem my rising dread. I should not have done that, not at all. Now Dorian knew there was more to me than the simple Dalish First who barely knew how to conjure flame. That would not do. I could kill him, it would be terrible easy to claim that he had died in the passage. Then again, I needed his knowledge to get back to our time. I would face the music, or at least pretend that it was a freak incident and I didn’t understand it.

I stood and faced him, “Are you ready to move?” I asked shakily. I did not meet his eye, but I saw him nod. 

“Where did you learn that? That spell?” He asked hurriedly. 

“The spell?” I stalled, “I— I don’t know that has never happened before.” It was a lie that I am not sure was convincing to him, but he left the matter alone for now, “Now, let’s figure out how to get the hell out of here.” 

He nodded, content to move on for the moment, but I could tell my display was still on his mind.“Here we are then.” He waded through the water and opened the door and I was distinctly disappointed that the water was on both sides of the door. In fact, the whole dungeon was submerged. 

“Where are we?” Dorian thought aloud. I scanned the guard rooms as we moved toward an exit. Above an elevated mantle piece was a banner, now torn and defaced. 

I pointed at the scrap of cloth, “This is Redcliffe! The castle dungeons!” The panic that had ebbed was on the rise again. This could not have been the past. This was the future, and the future had brought ruin to Redcliffe. 

“If we search more of the dungeons, we might find out more of what happened,” he said, calling my attention back to the present, “Besides, I’m sure there must be a dry room around here somewhere.” My breathing evened and I followed Dorian out of the room. Eventually, we reached a second set of cells that were not underwater without much resistance. 

Carefully, holding my aura close to myself, I pushed the door open to a side room. I poked my head about the edge of the door and did a sweep of the room. When my eyes landed on the last cells I froze. The Iron Bull was locked in his cell, on the ground, whispering things to himself that I couldn’t quite make sense of. 

“Bull?” I said gently, “Bull, can you hear me?” Hi head whipped up to peer at me and he sprang to attention, readying himself in a fighting stance. 

“I don’t know what kind of trick this is,” he said, “But I know you’re not her. Not the real Herald. Don’t try anything.”

“Bull,” I said again, “It’s me, Ithelana. We got pulled through Alexius’s time portal and we ended up here. I promise you I am real.”

“Yeah, forgive me if I don’t believe you.” 

What could I do to convince him? I thought back to the men who had been in the guard room outside. “Wait here,” I said. I exited and found a discarded sword and shield that the guards had dropped and returned to the cell. 

“Will you believe me if I arm you? Then, if I try or do anything you don’t like, you can strike me down where I stand.” 

He glanced at the sword and then back at me, “I still don’t trust you.” 

“Fair enough,” I shrugged, “I wouldn’t trust me either.” Taking this as our contract, I fished a key from a guard and opened the door. I laid the sword and shield on the ground in front of the cell and stepped back as to not crowd him. He picked up the shield gingerly and nodded, ready to move. 

After a few minutes, I gave up trying to probe him for information. He had a steeled look in his eye and was expertly deflecting my questions. He knew how to avoid an interrogation. I only hoped that Solas had not come to harm as Bull had. He had an air of poison about him that I attributed to Red Lyrium poisoning. I only hoped Solas had not suffered the same fate. 

We fought our way into another set of cells and I could sense him. I could feel the aura that reminded me of moonlight and sun shining off freshly fallen snow. He was always so careful with it, that it shocked me to feel it now, not kept close to his person. I searched for the core of his mana by sending out tendrils of my own. I paused in the middle of three doors. I sensed him to the right and sent a wave of mana into his center. I felt it as he shriveled back, but paused, gathering his aura to himself once more. He knew it was me. 

I walked through the door and immediately crossed to his cell, quickly unlocking it. I knelt in front of him and moved to cup his cheek but he pulled back. 

“It is not safe to touch me, lethallin,” he said, “They have poisoned us with Red Lyrium. I you touch me, you will contract it as well.”

“Poisoned you? For how long? How long have I been gone?” I asked desperately.

He coughed and held his side and only then did I notice the crystals growing from his chest. I gasped, “Solas!” The panic began to rise again alongside a tidal wave of anger. The fumblings of these foolish magisters and mages had brought about terrible consequences. Their unchecked tiring of the veil destroyed and corrupted everything. A part of me worried that our own attempt might end the same, but a greater part of me realized that that would not happen. There people were only pretenders at the true power of magic. I would build this world back up and tear it down once more to bring Arlathan back. Before me now lay the task of restorer.

Solas saw the determination in my eyes and whispered, “It has been a year of unchecked recklessness. Use this as a guide.” 

I pressed my lips in a line and stood, “You’ll need a staff.” I said as I recalled a Spellbinder that had fallen a few rooms back. I made for the door at the other end of the room when I heard another small voice. 

“Take… mine…,” a woman whimpered, “It is… in the cell across the way.” I looked at her and recognition flickered across my mind.

“Grand Enchanter Fiona?” I stepped closer as Solas went to retrieve the staff. I lifted a hand to my mouth to cover my shock. Red Lyrium had sprouted all around her as though she was a figure being chiseled out of a crude block of marble. 

“Lady Herald,” she coughed, “I do not have long. You must—,” she broke off coughing, “You must find Alexius. Use his amulet. Go back. Keep this from ever… happening..” She trailed off and her head lolled to the side. I stepped back. This was monstrous.

“Dorian? What’s this about an amulet?” I asked severely as I made my way out of the cell block.

“Alexius’s amulet, if we can get a hold of it, is a kind of peer sink he uses to open the time portals that sent us here. If we can get it, I know enough to open one back.”

I nodded, “Then let’s get back to the throne room.” Without a nod to the others I strode through the castle, making quick work of the guards in our way. So much needless suffering had been inflicted here at the hands of inept mages. And as we charged through the castle doors to the courtyard, I stopped stock still. Above me, the Brea had spread to encompass the whole sky. I turned to desperately stare at Solas. He returned my look sadly. 

“This is all it has come to, lethallin,” he said, “We must get you back so none of this nightmare ever comes to pass.”

I gulped, a feeling rising in my gut that perhaps there was not avoiding this future if Solas and I continued. Would we really be able to avoid this? Panic rose in my gut again, thinking of what this future would mean for our mission. For now, I forced the feeling under a wall of denial. Solas and I, ancient powers that we were, could not possibly let this happen. We would have control. We would not corrupt the power used to tear the veil with red lyrium. 

The four of us worked quickly through the courtyard, closing rift after rift until we reached the other side. The courtyard had clearly once been beautiful, showing signs of statues and gardens that were once rich. Anger roiled in my gut once more. This evil touched all. 

Eventually we reached a passage that led to the heart of the castle. As we followed the corridor, I began to hear voices interrogating a prisoner. 

“Tell us how Lavellan received the mark! How did she come to be at the Conclave?” A guard bellowed. 

A familiar voice hissed back, “I will tell you nothing.” The hidden tones of danger hidden under a light Orlesian accent pointed toward only one woman. I felt a bit relieved, and then panicked that said person had been captured. Leliana was always so careful. 

A growl of anger rose from under the door, followed by the sound of blows. At that, I charged and threw open the door, daggers at ready, tongues of flame coiling around the blades from my hands. The guards whirled on me and were struck still when they realized who I was. 

“You!” One of them started, presumably the interrogator. As he started toward me, blade at the ready, I saw a flash of movement behind him. Leliana had lifted herself to wrap her thighs around the other man’s throat. With a twist and a sickening snap, he fell lifelessly to the floor. The interrogator turned to follow my gaze, and I stepped forward to draw the dagger across his throat. I rushed to Leliana and picked the lock on her binds. Only then was I able to take in her state of health. 

Her cheeks were sunken and sallow. Her eyes had dark bags under them, and she had much the visage of a skeleton. Her lips, once so rosy, were white and flaky with dehydration. 

“You are here? Good, then we can put an end to this,” she growled. I expected, in truth, more shock at my presence, but she seemed unperturbed. Perhaps she had seen too much and was too bent on revenge to be surprised about anything anymore. 

“Put an end to what? Leliana, what has happened?” I knew she would give me reliable information. Though I trusted Solas, I doubted anyone would look for him to answer questions. Leliana, my spymaster, was a clearer source. 

“Alexius is a servant of the Elder One,” she said gravely, “The one responsible for the Breach and the rest of this madness. Since you have left, he has moved unchecked, raising an army of demons, assassinating the empress… All of Thedas has fallen to him. Corypheus. The Elder One.” 

I glanced at Solas, who had gone stiff. This was why he should leave practical missions to me. If I had been there, I never would have let him give his foci to a magister. It was a foolish move, and he now knew that. I looked back at Leliana, who was studying my silent exchange intently, “I’m sorry, Leliana. I promise you that when I get back I will save the world from this fate.” 

Dorian spoke up, “To think the use of time magic came to this… You must know more about —“ He was shocked, yes, but he seemed detached from this all. Leliana drew her thin lips back over her teeth in a deathly snarl. 

“And you wonder why people fear mages. No one should have that power,” she hissed, and Dorian snapped his mouth closed, “None of this is real to you, but real people suffered here. I suffered. Families were torn apart by death, and all you knew, even your precious Tevinter toppled into the sea. So quit asking questions and acting like this is just an experiment to you.”

She pushed past us and I looked at Blackwall and Solas apologetically. Blackwall staunchly avoided my gaze, but Solas met my eyes with no small measure of despair at the truth in Leliana’s words. Blackwall and Dorian followed Leliana into the hall, leaving Solas and I to take up the rear. 

“Lethallin, this cannot happen. A dar ago, I could not be convinced that tearing down the veil was anything but a noble endeavor, but—“

“No,” I frowned, “We would not allow this. Even Corypheus, magister though he is, does not have the knowledge of the Fade and Veil that we do. We will be more careful.”

He pressed his lips into a line, “I hope you are right.”  
————

Alexius and his son lay dead at the foot of the throne, and now we were facing a new problem. Incensed at the death of their beloved leader, the Venatori were now, alongside waves of demons, charging the throne room doors. 

Leliana had turned to us as soon as she heard the first wave coming, “We will take our last stand defending you here. We can give you time to work with that amulet and get out of here.”

Dorian plucked the amulet from Alexius, “I think I shall need no more than an hour.”

Leliana growled, “Based on the sounds coming from outside, you shall have no more than fifteen minutes. Work quickly.” With that, she took up stance near us, while Blackwall and Solas took up stance in front of her. I looked sadly after Solas, and turned to Dorian, helping him with the preparations as much as I could. Lending him mana, drawing out the simpler runes. With two people it took little time.

The spell was set to be cast when they burst through. Dorian started the incantations and I took up my daggers to defend him as best I could. Blackwall was the first to fall. Quickly overcome by a wave of demons. Then they turned their attention to Solas and a cry wrenched itself from my throat. From beneath the wave of writhing forms, I saw him, bloodied and half-dead, looking at me with a silent plea to survive. When the demons began to warm Leliana I knew he was gone. A new rage arose in me, borne of grief. 

Dorian finished the incantation and a portal arose before us, “Come on!” He shouted as he grabbed my hand and we leapt through. As I passed through the rift in time, there was that same blinding flash of light that made it seem I had left my body if only for a moment. 

We came crashing back through and it took a moment before I realized only moments had passed here since Alexius sent us forward. He backed away in shock, knowing he was beaten. My chest heaved from the exertion of the battle, the emotional trauma, and passing through another portal. But I felt a fresh wave of anger and adrenaline at the sight of that smug and foolish mage. I charged him and with a swift sweep of my leg I took advantage of Alexius’s shock at my sudden reappearance to drop him to the ground. I stood over him and trained an arrow at his head. It took immense restraint to keep from frying him on the spot as I had in front of Dorian. That would be a difficult thing to explain. Even so, I must have been letting my eyes do the strange flashing thing they did in these moments, because Solas gave me a cautionary nudge.

“This charade of yours must come to an end, fool,” I growled, feeling flame begin to pool in my palms, tongues licking at my bow and threatening to devour my control of it. I took a deep breath and focused on the man before me. That whole wretched world had been brought about because of his own pride and ignorance and foolishness. These Shadows did not know what true magic could be when tapped into the raw power of the Fade. They are cut off from its majesty in ways they cannot imagine. When they tore the Veil down, when Corypheus tore the Veil down, they became drunk on the power. And like any drunk, they made a sloppy mess of it. 

My guts roiled and my fingers itched to let the arrow fly. The man before me was no mage at all but a withered shell of what once was among my people. True and uncorrupted power tempered with harmony and careful study of the natural world. 

With a final shift, I let the arrow fly and it found its mark in the stone next to Alexius’s head, buried an inch deep and colored by the blood dripping from the new notch in his ear. I slung the bow over my shoulder as he stared, frozen like everyone else in the room, up at me. I took hold of his gaudy robes and hauled him to his feet with rage-fueled strength. I brought his face close to mine. 

Leaning forward so my lips were bare millimeters from his ear, I whispered, “Death is too good for you.” I shoved him away toward Blackwall, who was ready with restraints. “We will take you back to Haven. Then the Inquisition will decide what to do with you.” 

I made to leave, when the rear doors to the hall burst open and two lines of troops entered to line the hall. Between them emerged a stately Ferelden man I assumed was Kind Alistair. The absence of his Queen Cousland, as much as they tried to play it off, confirmed to me the rumors of her disappearance. From what Leliana role me, the two were virtually inseparable. 

I expected some sort of acknowledgement, but he sought out Grand Enchanter Fiona immediately. 

“Grand Enchanter!” Under the King’s angry tone was a lilt of humor.

“Yes, Your Highness?” Fiona blanched and dropped her head. She recognized the King (everyone did of course). The shocked expression on her face told a different story than mere shame in the face of a monarch.

“When I offered you and the rebel mages sanctuary in Redcliffe, the terms of our agreement did not include the submission to a Tevinter magister. As you have betrayed my trust,” he bit out, “you leave me with no choice in the face of protecting my people. You and your people are to leave Ferelden behind. You are welcome here no longer.”

Fiona’s head whipped up to gape at the King, “Where will we go? We have women, children, families! The road is no place to keep them safe.”

The King remained impassive at the emotional plea, “I don’t much care where you go as long as it is not I’m my country, Grand Enchanter.” 

I saw an opportunity, “The Inquisition came to Redcliffe to seek the aid of the rebel mages in closing the Breach. I am loathe to leave here empty handed.” I stepped toward them. 

“The Inquisition?” Fiona blinked, weighing her options and coming up short. 

After her pause, the King cut in, “If I were you, Grand Enchanter, I would take this offer very seriously. It is your only one at the moment.” 

She acknowledged him but kept her eyes on me. This small elves woman’s aura was menacing and strong, for a Shadow. Were I not familiar with her idiotic submission to Alexius I would have marked her as a decent leader. But no decent leader has the shortsightedness to submit to such evil. She was a disappointment to me. After meeting her in Val Royeaux, I expected more. 

“What I want to know is the nature of this offer? What place will the rebel mages have in the Inquisition.” 

I took a breath, contemplating my response. She was clearly fishing for a free alliance with us; for us to house them and feed them in exchange for a half an hour of help. It would ensure their loyalty, but their clear lack of true magical training would leave them open to the danger of possession. 

“Grand Enchanter Fiona, the Inquisition offers the rebel mages of Redcliffe an alliance,” I took a step closer, “And let me be very clear. You will have your freedom, yes, but you will be watched by our men and by the templars that have elected to join our cause. If the events here are any indication, you are as much a danger to yourselves as you were to the people in this village. You have my word that you will not be abused in our care, but you will not escape our surveillance. You walk a thin line with me, after seeing the man you submitted yourselves to.” 

She set her jaw and breathed, “Another that fears magic.”

Me? Fearing magic? I had had enough of all of this presumption from lesser mages concerning my thoughts and familiarity with the craft. Flames began to lick at my right palm and I let them travel up my arm. I felt Solas’s mana push into mine in warning, but I ignored him. In retrospect, it was foolish. It might have blown my cover, the control of the flame. For Dorian, it had indeed done so. I approached Fiona, flame now roaring from my forearm. 

“I do not fear magic, Fiona,” I said lowly. Her eyes widened at me, for she did not expect me to know any magic, much less have such control of the elements, “I only know what anguish it can cause when used by the hands of silly children.” I stepped back and controlled the flames at my side. I felt all eyes on me. “Rest assured,” I collected myself, “There will be no cause for intervention from me or our forces unless there is clear cause. I am a fair woman. You will not come to mistreatment by any Inquisition hands.”

“Very well,” she said quietly with a nod,” I will tell my people to prepare for departure then.” She turned and left the throne room. 

The King had been eyeing me carefully after my display. 

“Your Majesty,” I bowed my head to him, “Ithelana Halea Lavellan. Leliana has… told me much about you.”

A tight smile came to his face, “Has she now? Maker knows what you must think of me after all that.”

“Not so poorly as you appear to think. Leliana has a high opinion of you and the Queen, she has spoken of your kind heart and fair judgement.” I assured him with a smile. I sobered, “You have my word that your people will come to no further harm.” 

“I should hope not. Then we would have to have a serious discussion about broken promises and the consequences of them,” he frowned and I detected a veiled threat in his words. “I have heard of your efforts in my lands, and it seems, for the moment, that this will not come to pass. Give Leliana my regards. Both mine and my wife’s.” He turned and exited the hall, followed by his soldiers. 

My companions were quiet. I could not tell if my actions had angered them or not, but I did not really care to find out. Only Dorian had seen what I had, and only he could judge my decision. I looked at him and he had his mouth set in an impassive line, but he nodded at me. I steeled myself and ventured out of the castle toward Haven once more.


End file.
